


I Will Lay Me Down

by singing_to_shipwreck (shocked_into_shame)



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Too Much Exposition, some spoilers for the synopsis of 2.9, this is Dramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24430198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shocked_into_shame/pseuds/singing_to_shipwreck
Summary: "Nandor and Laszlo were kidnapped by witches. Nadja and I had to go save them before they drained their life-force."Nadja sobbed dramatically and Laszlo held tight to her arm. Guillermo's mouth opened in shock and then closed again, repeating that action multiple times in a grasping attempt at finding something to say.He eventually settled on, “Why didn’t anyone call me?”In unison, four voices responded, “It’s your day off.”
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 227





	I Will Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> This little plot bunny hopped into my head last night, and I had to write it. It isn't quite what I had in mind, but I like it, and I hope you do too. This is based on the synopsis for 2.9: Witches. I might look like an egghead once the promo/episode comes out, but oh well. 
> 
> Please enjoy.

When Guillermo entered the house at just past one in the morning, the buzz of the mixed drinks consumed at Jeremy’s house long faded, he expected to be greeted with whatever antics his vampires were getting up to. Perhaps Nandor would order him to do something, forgetting that it was his day off. Maybe his master would even ask him how his night went, as he was wont to do as of late. 

But when he stepped in the front door, arms full of trays of cookies and half empty bags of chips left over from Jeremy’s party, he was met with silence. None of the lights were on. The only illumination in the entryway was a candle nearly melted down to the stump. 

He shook his head and frowned. Even if he was gone for just a day, it seemed the vampires took every opportunity in his absence to put themselves in danger. He fumbled for his phone and flipped on the flashlight before blowing the candle out and making his way upstairs to his room, turning on lights as he went.

He was exceptionally proud of his new room. They didn’t call it the _big_ blue room for nothing - he had plenty of space for his belongings. Maybe even too much space at this point. This new room had nearly the same amount of square footage as the vampires’ crypts did, but Guillermo hadn’t had hundreds of years to accumulate quite so many objects to cover all of the blank surfaces and fill the empty corners. He was getting there, though, making this place his home with every new trinket he bought and each new sketch he framed and mounted on the deep blue walls. 

He had a desk dedicated to his desktop computer. Another desk for his laptop and his sketchbooks. A massive cedar trunk at the foot of his full sized bed for his sweaters. In the corner of the room was Topher’s mini-fridge and a three tiered cart filled with _snacks_ , one of the very important stipulations of his return. And his new pride and joy, which he had mentioned in passing and very promptly received - a Keurig and a probably exorbitant number of K-cups to match. 

He put the leftovers from the party on the cart, making room for them amidst the sea of Little Debbies and Welch’s and Frito Lay’s, and then shrugged out of his clothing and into his bathrobe. 

It seemed no one was home. A cursory glance in Nadja and Laszlo’s room (which was a risk, but desperate times and all that) as well as a few calls out to the house confirmed that. He made a face of displeasure and padded on bare feet into the upstairs bathroom. 

As he stepped into the scalding water of his shower, he pondered why exactly he was so disappointed. How funny it was that when he was forced to remain in Nandor’s presence each day of the week he resented it. But now that he was granted a day off, he almost always missed Nandor by the end of those 12 hours. He tried not to think too deeply about what that meant as he scrubbed his scalp with Suave. 

When they weren’t home by the time he got out of his shower, he resolved that they probably wouldn’t be back until near dawn. It always made him a little nervous when they cut it close like that, arriving just moments before the sun would come up and could easily burn them to a crisp. He wondered what they got up to all night, but perhaps some things were better off unknown. 

Even though he should seize this rare opportunity to get an almost full night of sleep, not expected to get back to work until tomorrow morning, he was buzzing with a nervous energy that he couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of. He sighed as he rubbed at his hair with a towel and changed into warm pajamas. Maybe some hot chocolate would settle him. 

He waited for his cocoa to brew and fall into his little bat-adorned china mug, moving to sit on the bed, hands brushing across the soft surface of his new quilt.

Things had changed - impossibly, inexplicably, things had changed. He had only to ask for something within reason and it was his. Nandor _seemed_ to respect him more, although his expressions and his motives were still nearly impenetrable. That was perhaps the only frustrating part of all of this. Guillermo appreciated being respected, but he was no closer to getting a read on Nandor or what their relationship meant to the vampire. 

The Keurig ceased its hissing and he unplugged it before grabbing his drink and making his way downstairs to the fancy room. He got comfortable on the sofa and idly played Candy Crush on his phone, feeling like a parent waiting by the door for the safe return of their wild teenager who forgot to text. 

He should just go to bed. These were vampires he was worried about, not teenage girls who couldn't hold their alcohol. But something deep within his gut had him on high alert and he knew any attempts at sleep would be fitful at best.

After nearly an hour of messing around on his phone, his hot chocolate gone cold in his mug, he heard the front door stir. 

He raced into the entry, anticipating bright, blood drunk smiles and silliness. Instead he was greeted with four somber faces. Laszlo was leaning on Nadja, and he looked exhausted, his features settled into a deep frown. Colin was stoic, and his shirt was untucked. Guillermo’s eyes stopped on Nandor and he nearly gasped at how _pale_ he looked, even more so than usual. His usually proud shoulders were slumped, and he dragged his boots as he entered. 

"What the hell happened?" he blurted. 

He expected Colin to launch into an explanation at the very least, something long-winded and draining. Instead the energy vampire frowned and seriously explained, "Nandor and Laszlo were kidnapped by witches. Nadja and I had to go save them before they drained their life-force." 

Nadja sobbed dramatically and Laszlo held tight to her arm. Guillermo's mouth opened in shock and then closed again, repeating that action multiple times in a grasping attempt at finding something to say. 

He eventually settled on, “Why didn’t anyone call me?” 

In unison, four voices responded, “It’s your day off.” 

His fists clenched at his sides. He wasn’t sure how to feel or what to say. 

On the one hand, it was oddly endearing that Nandor had made it a house rule that Guillermo’s day off was to be respected. But, on the other hand, this was clearly a dire situation. Their bleak expressions told him all he needed to know about the night. 

Was he not a member of this household? Did no one stop to consider how he would feel about Nandor being fucking _kidnapped?_

He was at Jeremy’s house playing Mario Kart and drinking tequila and eating fucking Doritos and all the while his master was in grave danger. The corners of his eyes stung with threatening tears as the guilt coiled in his chest. 

Laszlo and Nadja fled to their crypt, clutching each other for dear life, and Colin gave Nandor a sad look before retreating to his underground bedroom. Guillermo hovered in the hallway dumbly, caught between following Nandor into the library and going upstairs to bed. 

His master won out. He always seemed to win out. 

Guillermo entered the room, slow and gentle on his feet like he was approaching a scared wild animal. Nandor sat on the tattered sofa near the windows that Guillermo painstakingly blacked out, still as a statue. He padded over to him slowly, appraising him. 

Nandor’s face was blank, but his body language spoke wonders - his shoulders were hunched and his large hands tightened into fists on his knees. Guillermo wanted to sit with him and comfort him, but even now he was unsure of how that action would be received. Would Nandor let him be a comfort? Would he reject him? 

Guillermo already felt the sharp sting of not being included in the rescue mission. He wasn’t sure he could handle another rejection. But Nandor had obviously handled much more than just rejection tonight, and he needed Guillermo whether he could admit it or not. 

So, Guillermo’s decision was made, it seemed. 

He gingerly sat beside him, keeping a small distance between them on the uncomfortable surface of the couch. He made a note to ask for a new sofa for this room. Now that he had the power to request things, he could finally make it clear that this tattered furniture left much to be desired. 

Nandor’s face was still devoid of emotion, but he didn’t react negatively to Guillermo sitting down. At least there was that, some small silver lining in all of this. 

“Are you alright, master?” Guillermo probed gently. 

“I am fine,” Nandor responded curtly. His voice was grated - hoarse - worn down like he had been shouting. Guillermo felt his throat tighten and he swallowed down his reaction. 

“Okay. Good,” he supplied weakly, trying to be positive. He wasn’t convincing himself. Nandor nodded almost imperceptibly, eyes glued to the other side of the room. Guillermo should leave it at that. He could either sit here in silence until asked to go away, or he could march up to his big blue room and go to sleep. 

But Guillermo couldn’t shake how he felt about being ignored tonight, and he couldn't shake the awareness that Nandor was certainly not _fine._ He had promised himself not to let things fester since coming home - to make his wants and his needs clear as they appeared.

“Master,” he started, hands moving to mirror Nandor’s position unconsciously, fists resting on his knees. “I have something to say. I want you to know that I appreciate everything you have been doing for me and how you have gone out of your way to treat me better.” 

“Are you leaving me again?” Nandor interrupted, dark eyes darting up to look at Guillermo for the first time that night. His blank face had finally broken, and panic had replaced it. 

“No!” Guillermo insisted, turning on the sofa to face Nandor. “No way. I am not leaving. I am very happy here, master. You’ve done a lot to make things better.” 

Nandor nodded again and the blank expression returned with a vengeance. Guillermo frowned deeply, refusing to look away from his master despite how uncomfortable he felt. “I appreciate how you respect my need for a day off. But I need you to know that I am upset that no one let me know what was happening tonight.” 

“You _said_ not to bother you on your day off, Guillermo,” Nandor protested. 

Guillermo sighed, his anger starting to dissipate. He wasn’t ignored on purpose; he just lived with idiots. “I know. I know I did. But I need you to promise me that if you are in danger, that you or someone else will let me know. If something happened to you and I wasn’t around to…” he trailed off, throat tight with emotion. His voice was shaky and he was becoming embarrassingly misty-eyed. 

His choked up state didn’t go unnoticed, it seemed, because Nandor was once again looking at him with an expression that Guillermo couldn’t discern. 

“I am a vampire, Guillermo,” he insisted. “You are a human. What could you do?” With the right tone, those words could have been deeply insulting - but the way Nandor spoke them was gentle. Earnest. 

“I know that, master. But I will do _anything_ I need to to keep you safe.” He needed Nandor to understand the depth of what he felt, the fierce protectiveness that rolled over him at the mere thought of something happening to him. In his desperation, Guillermo had extended his hand and placed it on Nandor’s forearm without realizing, his little fingers clutching tightly to the fabric there. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling his hand away. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Guillermo was suddenly swept into a brutally tight embrace, his chin shoved into the furs adorning his master’s shoulder. Nandor clutched tight to the back of Guillermo’s shirt. Guillermo’s arms came up to hug back, and it was freeing to allow himself to squeeze his master like this, to hold him close. He breathed him in, bittersweet, caught between reveling at the contact and finally letting the tears fall as he was faced with the profound depth of Nandor’s fear and his anguish in the wake of what had happened. 

“Guillermo,” he whispered, burying his face into the crook of his neck. Guillermo held on tighter. “I was so afraid,” he finally admitted, and like a dam breaking his voice began to wobble and his shoulders trembled in Guillermo’s embrace. “They were stealing our energy, Guillermo. I thought I would die tonight,” he explained slowly, anguished. 

The tears fell down Guillermo’s face freely, and he leaned to rest his chin on the crown of Nandor’s head, the softness of his hair brushing against his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, unable to think of anything else, his hands rubbing soothingly at Nandor’s back. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I just kept wishing you would come and rescue me.” Nandor spoke in hushed tones, like he was divulging a deep, dark secret - and Guillermo supposed that was true. The admission weighed heavily on them both. 

“I’ve got you,” he soothed, continuing to stroke Nandor’s back until his master’s body relaxed into the embrace, his full weight leaning against his familiar on the tattered sofa in their library near the blacked out windows. “I’ve got you. I promise.”


End file.
